Savior
by staceycj
Summary: Outsider's POV. Saving People, that's what the real Dean Winchester did.
1. Chapter 1

She squirmed a little in the kitchen chair, started to draw her legs into the chair, looked across the table at the man sitting in front of her and decided against it, and then in an unconscious movement, drew her knees to her chest and looked at him over them.

"You want something to drink?" She asked. "Water, coffee, tea, hot chocolate…..lemonade?" she asked and unraveled herself from the chair and stood.

"Water would be fine." He said more by way of giving the wound up woman something to do rather than any need for water. She returned from the kitchen and handed him a bottle of water. He said thank you and she nodded and smiled faintly and sat back down in her chair and drew her legs up again.

"I don't know why you want to hear my story. My story is pretty insignificant in the whole grand scheme of things."

He took a sip of the water and shook his head. "No. None of the stories are insignificant. I'm going around the country collecting as many as I can. I just want to be able to paint as accurate of a picture of them as possible."

Her eyes widened. "I didn't meet both of them. Just Dean. I never met his brother Sam. He was at college."

"He told you that?"

"Yeah. He talked to me….just talked….tried to calm me down." She fidgeted. "He talked to me about his brother. Told me about him being in college, and going to be a lawyer. He was real proud of him."

The curly haired man pushed a tape recorder in front of her. "Please. Tell me the story."

She looked at the recorder then back at the man with the earnest blue eyes and nodded. "Okay."

She took a deep breath, "I've never been a pretty girl. Always been plain, invisible pretty much…."

***

The day had been frustrating. Nothing had gone right, a failed paper started the morning, and the evening brought a broken car, and a roommate who had brought home a boy to "play" with for the evening thus effectively kicking her out of their dorm room until play time was over and who knew when that would be. She sought refuge at the university library but that couldn't stay open forever, and her roommate hadn't called to give her the all clear message so, here she was a little after midnight walking down streets that were known to house an element that was anything but savory.

She had just started for the coffee house that was open late and provided internet access for a small fee when she felt something at her back, it wasn't like the feeling she got at school when she knew that there were other students behind her, but felt more threatening. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, because it knew, if her brain didn't, that there was someone or something behind her that intended to do her harm. She tried to pretend that she didn't feel the wrongness, and simply decided to walk a little faster; the coffee shop wasn't much farther.

The faster she walked, the faster he walked, and before she knew what she was doing, she dropped her books and ran as fast as she could, but he could run faster, and he caught her, and drug her into the alleyway beside a bar with music blaring and a convenience store which had closed an hour ago.

***

She cleared her throat and looked at the man in front of her. "You sure you want to hear more? I mean the rest isn't very pretty, and well…" She was trying to say that the story in part hurt to tell, in fact, she hadn't told anyone this whole story before. There had never been anyone to tell all of it to. But when she heard that this man was looking for stories of Dean, Dean who hadn't died in that exploding police station, she e-mailed him without thinking, told him that she had a story, and didn't think, because if she had thought, she would have realized that she would have to share the whole story, and that story not only showcased Dean but it showed how pathetic she had been.

The curly haired reported looked at her with sympathy. He should have stopped, should have told her that he didn't need to hear the story, but he did, he owed it to Dean, to Sam, to future generations to have their entire story published, not just the propaganda pieces that he had been forced to write since 05. So, he gently pressed her to continue. "Please. I would like to hear the story…"

She nodded, licked her lips, and held onto her knees more tightly. Her eyes looked all around the small dining room, and eventually settled on the cup in front of her and she took a deep shaking breath and continued with her story. "He had me pinned to the wall, it was all I could do to keep from falling apart. I was so scared, and before I knew what I was about, he was ripping my shirt open, and when he realized that he wouldn't be able to keep me pinned to the wall and rip my jeans at the same time, especially with my squirming, he switched it up. He threw me down on the ground, and was on top of me before I could get my barring….my jeans didn't last long…"

***

She felt the man's hand squeezed her jaw and he tried to kiss her, but she wouldn't respond and her squirming increased, and despite the fact that he was sitting on her abdomen she kicked and tried to push. And that was when he got mad, that was when a knife appeared out of nowhere, and was placed against her throat, "Stop squirming bitch! I'll cut up that not so pretty face of yours. Then see if any man will ever come near you enough to touch you!" She closed her eyes and stopped squirming. The cold metal bit into her neck as he leaned over and proceeded to kiss her. Once he had his kiss, she heard his zipper go down. It was so loud that it echoed, she had been sure that someone should have heard it, everyone should have heard it, it was so loud, so overwhelming. She knew her jeans were gone, and she knew what was going to happen, and suddenly dying didn't seem so bad, maybe the knife at her throat could be a blessing.

"You scream and I'll kill you." He had muttered as he was positioning himself. Death seemed like a better option than having to live with this her entire life. And just as she was about to scream and effectively end her life, the man on top of her was gone, just like that. She didn't open her eyes but she heard the sounds of someone being beaten. She struggled to open her eyes, and struggled to sit up when all sounds stopped. Except one. A man's heavy breathing.

"Miss?" she heard. It wasn't the same voice that had threatened her. This one was warm and gruff, and somehow that made it sound comforting. She forced her eyes open and there squatted a beautiful man, green eyes full of concern and rage.

"Miss." He tried again. "We need to get you to a hospital." He said. She held herself tightly. She looked around the alleyway; she didn't see the man who had harmed her.

"He was in my English class." She said stupidly.

"Well that's super. Come on. Let me help you up. We need to get you to a hospital." He extended a hand and she refused it.

"I don't have any clothes." She said as she tried to pull her ruined clothes over her bleeding and damaged body. He looked around and she could tell he was thinking.

"Sit up. Let's get my coat on you." She forced herself into a sitting position. He took off his leather coat and put it around her. Once partially covered she stood up and the coat billowed around her small frame. He buttoned it up, and she wrapped her arms around herself hugging the material to her.

"Lemme call your parents so they can come get you and take you to the hospital."

"I don't have parents." She said as they walked out of the alley.

"Husband or boyfriend?" he asked.

"Don't' have that either."

"Siblings." She shook her head.

"Friends?"

"None that would care." He turned his head and licked his lips and then wiped his face.

"I can call 9-1-1."

"No! No ambulance. I don't need people to stare at me." Self consciousness wrapped itself around her. She held onto herself a little tighter. "I don't want people to look at the freak who almost got….r…r.." She stopped talking and put a hand to her mouth and began to cry. Shame filled her and her knees buckled and he grabbed her on the way down and kept her standing on her own two feet. It was the first contact he had made with her and the touch was tentative.

"I can take you." He said softly after a brief hesitation.

***

"Now that I think about it. I realize why he hesitated. He didn't want to make me feel trapped. Or at least that's what I think. I don't know. He just hesitated."

"Well, you were almost…" The curly haired reporter swallowed. There were monsters in the world, and they didn't always have fangs, or special powers. Sometimes they were just men. And those were the worst monsters of all.

She nodded. "And when I think back on it, I was really kinda stupid to get in the car with him. I mean, what in the hell did I know about him? Sure he knocked that son of a bitch off of me, but that didn't mean he didn't want a piece for himself. I didn't think of that then. I just got into the car. He seemed so safe, so concerned. So, nice." She laughed. "Now knowing about him what I know….I can say he almost seemed angelic." She waved the thought away and continued. "He offered me the back seat…."

***

"You want the back seat? More room….you won't…..you know….?" She got inside the back, and drew her knees up to her chest. He got into the driver's seat and turned the beast on.

"You need a blanket? If you do there is one under the passenger's seat. My brother always kept it there. Always said that it was too cold in the car for driving at night. So he would sleep in the seat and cover up with a blanket. It's clean. He washed it right before he left for school. And I don't use it. It's his blanket."

"No. I'm okay. I just want these clothes off of me."

"We're getting there."

They arrived at the emergency room and he opened the back door for her and she stepped out, tried to take a step and tripped, he caught her by the shoulders and looked down, her gym shoes were untied.

"Your shoes are untied." He stated dumbly and knelt down. "I'm going to tuck the laces into your shoes, don't want to tie them and then just have the doctor cut the laces. These are nice shoes." He said just to talk and to keep her comfortable while he tucked the laces into her shoes. "Come on. Let's get inside, so the doctors can help you." She nodded and moved slowly forward when he put a hand on her back urging her forward.

She didn't remember a whole lot after that. She remembered he pushed some nurses to help her and he saw that she was taken back.

"Stay with me." She remembered saying when they put her in the room, took all of her clothes and gave him back his jacket.

"You don't really want me to stay."

"I want someone to stay with me. Please stay." He seemed to think about it, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and then seemed to resign himself and began looking around for a chair, and once found he pulled it closer to her bed and sat down.

"I don't even know your name." He said lamely.

"Lilly."

"Nice to meet you Lilly. I'm Dean."

***

"The nurses tried to make him leave when they started the whole swabbing, poking and prodding part of the investigation, but I wouldn't let him leave. I made him sit right beside me and talk to me while they were looking, poking and prodding. He told me about his brother Sam, and how he was at school, and how he got a free ride to Stanford. He was so proud, and it seemed that his brother could do no wrong, that he walked on water and could turn stone into gold by the way Dean talked." She laughed a little and took a sip of her drink. "I wished that I could be a part of his family. He loved his family with everything he had. Even his dad who he said wasn't around much, but when he spoke of John…"

"He told you his father's name?" the reporter asked shocked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"It's rare that he felt the need to talk about his family to anyone." She shrugged.

"It might have had something to do with the fact that I had no one. Or maybe he just didn't know what else to talk about. But he talked and talked about his family and about how wonderful they were. He adored his brother. Just simply adored him." She said with a shake of her head and then blushed. "I've said that already. I'm sorry."

"No. It's fine. Go on."

She shrugged. "I found out later he beat that man so severely that he almost died. I had never had anyone ever come to my rescue before, for anything, big or small, and I was in such awe of him. Awe that a complete stranger would save me. I remember thanking him in the hospital right before he left. He just smiled this beautiful smile and said 'that's my job sweetheart.'" She smiled sheepishly. "I've had a crush on him since then. Always wished I had his last name so I could call him, thank him again, something, anything.

Then I saw on the news that he had died." Her voice hitched, she put a hand to her mouth, swallowed and regained her emotions. "They said he was a murderer. That he and his brother killed people. I knew that wasn't right. There was no way in the world that Dean would do that and Sam….I never met him, but the way Dean talked about him." She shook her head. "No. There was no way in the world that he could have done anything either. It crushed me. I…I…I couldn't' imagine my savior dead, and his name being smeared from one end of the country to the other. It was like someone close to me had died, and I only knew him for a few hours."

He nodded. "He has that effect on people."

"You know him?" her eyes lit up.

"Yeah. Saved my ass a couple of times before…you know the whole world saving thing."

"So you know. You know how warm, kind, gentle, and caring he is."

"I guess you could say that."

She fidgeted with her hands for a moment and then looked him dead in his big bright blue eyes. "Dean saved my life. He made me value my own life more just because he thought I was worth saving. That's who Dean Winchester is. To him, everyone, no matter how small, is worth saving. Write that down. Make sure the world knows that he took time to save seemingly worthless people. He didn't just save the world. He saved a small girl in Montana. He saved a girl from being raped, and from fading into nothingness." The front door opened and shut and Lilly's eyes widened and instantly became brighter.

"I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't think you and Mr. Surly would still be working on the interview. I'll just go work on this in the garage." She smiled and stood, ran to her husband and kissed him. He cocked his head to the side and smiled. He didn't understand what was going on, but trusted that he would be let in on the secret later.

Chuck watched Lilly. Dean had saved her in so many ways. Ways that he was sure the brash hunter never knew. And that, was the true Dean Winchester.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I thought the story was over, and I think it's over now….but who knows. Stacey

The diner was down the street from the trailer park in which I lived. My mom didn't know I was out, didn't know I was going to meet some strange guy for coffee, if she knew, she would kill me. It was only in the last year or two that she had let go enough to allow me to stay out past 10. I understand that she had a scare all of those years ago, but I'm 17 years old, I don't think I can be kidnapped anymore, I think now it would be considered person-napped. Don't even know if that is a word. But, this writer said he would be here, and several people posted comments on the site where I found this guy, and said that he was legit, and that he really wanted to hear our stories.

I don't know why in the world he would want my story. It wasn't like Dean saved me from anything great, wasn't like he saved me from some supernatural baddie…not like I was the pope or something, I was just some random kid that was poor and lived in a trailer park with his mom who tried desperately to make ends meet. What could be fascinating about my story?

The door to the diner opened and a nervous looking man entered. He searched the room and saw me and I stood and waved him over. I stuck my hand out and he shook it. "Mr. Surly?"

"Logan Davis?"

"Yes, sir. Nice to meet you." I indicated for him to sit across from me. The waitress, Mindy—we go to the local high school together, came over and took his order and left us alone.

"So," I began. "You're going across the country collecting stories?"

"Yeah." He said and thanked Mindy when she brought him his glass of water and took a drink. "I'm trying to write the most accurate picture of Dean Winchester as possible."

"But he saved the world. Freaking saved the world from the devil himself….and you want to know how he saved me? I mean, come on, that's insignificant. Plus it was like 7 years ago. Definitely not important anymore. I'd go interview the people he and his brother managed to get the demons out of right before the big show down. Not me. Sam wasn't even with him when he saved me."

"I just want to hear the story. People only know the big stuff he's done, but they don't realize that he'd been fighting evil for a long time before the big showdown. I want everyone to know who this man really is."

I shrugged. "I guess." I took a sip from my glass of pop and tried to get past the lump in my throat. This story was hard for me to tell. I didn't like to think about it, didn't like to talk about it. But when I heard about this guy, it was on the news website I frequent, and it said that he was looking for stories about the Great Dean Winchester and the Great Sam Winchester. I posted, said I had a story about Dean, never, in a million trillion years did I figured that he'd pick me to tell my story. Hell, I wonder how he even knew that I was telling the truth. It's not like he could go and ask Dean. He had to be on like, I don't know, 24 hour a day protection, and even if he could it isn't like Dean would remember.

The tape recorder switched on and I took a deep breath.

"Well, I was ten."

***

The cabin was in the middle of nowhere, in some dense forest, where the only light that could be seen was moonlight and even that was spotty. The cabin was old, it was falling apart, crumbling, and the inside was worse. Someone had once lived there, and it had been a long time ago, the furniture was old and decaying at what seemed like a rapid pace.

"I want my mommy." Little Logan Davis had yelled. That earned him a smack across the side of his face. One chubby cheek glowed red with the sting of the force, and his mouth fell open in a wordless startled scream.

"Keep your freaking mouth shut you little rodent." And all at once the air came back to him and he wailed. It was almost involuntary.

"I said keep your mouth shut boy!" He yelled and his eyes grew fierce and dark. He pulled at the belt around his waist. "You'll see what happens to little boys who can't keep their mouths shut…"

***

I watched Chuck's eyes widen, he visibly swallowed. "Did, he, uh, you—know?"

It took me a second or two to figure out what Mr. Surly was getting at, and when I understood that he thought the man had raped me in addition to beating and kidnapping me, I shook my head violently. "No. He just beat me with the belt." And suddenly that seemed like a much better alternative than when Mr. Surly had been suggesting. "That's what bad boys deserved. I have the scars, you need to see them?"

He waved his hands out in front of him. "No. No. Thanks. I don't need to see 'em."

"Well, the guy was going to kill me. I knew that then, and the older I get the more sure of it I am. All I know is that I was screaming. I guess that's how Dean found me. He must have heard my screams. He burst inside the house, he was wearing a leather jacket….

***

The man wearing the leather jacket grabbed a hold of the kidnapper and pulled him away from the child and punched him square in the jaw. He held the kidnapper by the collar and punched the man until he passed out.

Worried green eyes met the child's frighten blue ones and he held out a hand to the bleeding and crying child. "Come on, I'll take you back to your momma." The child scrambled and got into the corner and hid his face in the wall.

"No! No! Go away! Go away!" he screamed over and over again.

Dean knelt down to the child's level. "My name is Dean Winchester. And all I want to do is take you back to your mom. She's looking for you. She's sad and misses you, she asked me to come and find you." The boy quit screaming and peeked around his hands and looked at Dean's earnest face.

"My momma sent you?" he asked and sniffed, and snot dribbled down his face, meshed with tears, and Dean's face softened more.

"Yeah, your mom is worried about you and is looking for you. Will you come with me? Will you let me take you to your mom?"

"I don't know you. You're a stranger." Dean stifled a laugh.

"I told you my name is Dean Winchester. What is your name?"

"Logan Davis."

"Nice to meet you Logan. Now we aren't strangers. Will you let me take you to your mom now?"

***

"I didn't exactly trust him then, and he talked to me for a little bit, told me about the cool things he did when he was my age, talked to me about his brother Sammy."

"He talked to you about Sam?"

That seemed like an odd question to me. Sam helped him save the world from Lucifer, why wouldn't this guy expect him to talk about his brother? They were obviously close. "yeah, why?"

"His brother was at Stanford then and they weren't exactly on the best of speaking terms." I shrugged.

"Well, doesn't matter I guess. He talked about Sam, and how geeky he was. Told me a whole bunch of stuff about him that I don't remember anymore, but I remember it got me to trust him. He asked me stuff about me, just talked to me for the longest time, and then just as the kidnapper was going to wake up from Dean's knock out, he hit him again and knocked him out and some of the guy's teeth went flying. Scared me when the guy woke up some. Dean picked me up and took me to his car. He walked calmly. Wasn't scared of anything. He drove me back to the trailer. Back to my mom. My mom was so scared, she was crying. My mom never cries. She's had a rough life. My dad used to beat her before he left, and she never cried. But she was sobbing when Dean handed me back to my mom.

She tried to pay him, tried to give him what little money she had and he wouldn't take it. Said that her thanks was enough. She tried to feed him, anything. He wouldn't take it. He ruffled my hair, told me to take care of my mom, and he got back into that big black car and took off." Mr., Surly looked down at the tape recorder and then back to me. I shrugged.

"There really isn't much to say. He saved my life. He saved my mother's life. I don't know what she would have done if they had found me dead."

"What happened to the kidnapper do you know?" Mr. Surly asked. I smiled this was the best part.

"I took the police back to the cabin. He was dead. One shot to the head. I knew Dean did it. But I wasn't going to tell the police that. My mom didn't tell them either. She just said that some mysterious stranger saved me. That's what I know of Dean Winchester. It isn't much."

"It was a lot. Thank you." The curly haired reporter turned off the recorder and put it into his bag.

We stood, and he shook my hand and thanked me again for my time and my story. Just before he was at the door I called out. "All these stories, you really think they'll matter?"

Mr. Surly turned to me, hand on the door and said, "I know they will matter."

"Why you?"

"It's my job." And he left.


	3. Chapter 3

"I was 20, I think, when it happened….yeah…I'd just had my birthday. Anyway. I had just had a nasty fight with my mom and I was driving way too fast to my boyfriend's house. I was living with my mom; I guess I should have said that earlier." She shook her head and pushed bangs out of her face and looked down at the glass of water in front of her.

Since beginning the interviewing process, Chuck had been in more diners, coffee shops, dives and parks than he could count. And it seemed that each person starred at their drink or fiddled with their drink more than looked him in the eye, and each person seemed unsure as to whether or not they should even share their story, worried that their story was insignificant, and that it didn't matter in the grand scheme. Because "Dean Winchester saved the world" and how did their story of him saving their life compare to that?

"Go on Emily."

"Really? Is it even important? I mean, for goodness sake he saved the planet!"

"I want, no need, the world to know what he was like before he became the legend."

"But, he is the legend….People worship him now."

"And that is another part of it. People should know what they are worshiping."

She licked her lips, tucked hair behind her ears and sighed. "I was driving too fast. I went to cut hard to the left, and get out from behind a truck, and well, I wasn't exactly paying attention, and I ended up…."

***

Tires screeched and the sound of metal colliding, glass breaking, people screaming, echoed for miles and then all was silent, deadly silent. The tree, that had stood its ground for decades, perhaps centuries, was left unscathed, while the little green Pontiac, was crushed, twisted, destroyed, and its passenger left mangled, bleeding, and fighting for her life.

Dean Winchester, on his way to a job, saw a car off the side of the road, and the closer he came the more he realized that the car wasn't just pulled over, but had crashed into a giant tree. He gunned the old powerhouse and skidded to a stop, threw her into park and hurried to the car that was encasing her like a tomb.

"Miss! Miss!" He yelled when he got to the car. She moved her head a little, her eyes opened briefly and turned to his.

"Hang on!" He yelled, and with a steady hand he called 9-1-1.

***

"A lot of it is a blur from here Mr. Surly. I remember the window was broken, and I remember that he put a hand on my face, and checked to make sure I was breathing."

"Please keep going Emily."

She sighed and looked him in the eye for the first time since they had begun this conversation and she smiled slightly.

"The rest is what my mom told me after the fact."

"That's fine. Please just tell the story."

She nodded, shifted in her seat, and took a breath…

***

A young man wearing a blood stained green coat was in the waiting room when Amelia Isaacs ran into the ER waiting room, and he waited until he heard her state her name and Emily's before he stood and went to her and touched her shoulder.

"Ma'am?"

"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?!"

"Emily with a green Pontiac?" he asked.

She stopped and looked at the man and noted the blood on his clothes and she cringed back. "You?"

"I called 9-1-1. I just wanted to be here until you got here, in case she needed someone." His face wrinkled and an insecurity passed along his face that the mother was too distracted to read.

She swallowed. "How….bad?"

He seemed to consider what to tell her and that made he grow impatient and angry, "Just tell me! I'm a grown woman. I can take it."

He licked his lips and looked down. For the first time she noted just how young he was, and she could tell that this was hard on him. But she didn't care. She wanted to know about her daughter, wanted to know that she was okay, and this boy knew, and damnit she would beat him black and blue if that encouraged him to talk.

"She was pretty bad. I kept her talking to me while we waited for the ambulance. I busted her window in, and I held her hand to keep her grounded I guess. She told me about you, about her boyfriend, and that she was sorry about what happened." He shrugged. "I don't know what happened, she didn't tell me, but she was sorry." He shrugged and shifted is feet again. "I think they took her to surgery. They wouldn't tell me because I'm not family. But, that's what I overheard them saying."

"Did you ride with her in the ambulance?"

He shook his head. "No. They wouldn't let me. But I followed it." He dug his hands into his jeans pockets. "I just thought that there should be someone here for her, until you or her dad or boyfriend could get here. And now that you're here, I'll leave." He gave her a smile and turned away.

"Wait. Young man." He turned.

"What's your name?"

"Dean."

"Dean, will you please stay, at least for a little while, until the others get here?" He nodded.

"Yeah, I can do that."

"You don't have anywhere…."

"No. I was just passing through town. No one is expecting me." Relief was apparent on the older woman's face.

"Thank you." He shrugged it off and guided her to the chairs. Once she was sat down he told her he would be right back and returned with coffee, handed her a cup.

"I hope you take it black….I didn't see any sugar or cream over there."

"This is fine." She took a sip and starred at the cup.

"She just turned twenty." She sat back in the chair. "She was my little miracle. I didn't think I could have babies, but there she was. All ten toes and all ten fingers. Just absolutely beautiful. And when they called me, I saw all of that flash before my eyes, saw all 20 short years flash and whir by me. My little girl could die. And I wasn't very nice to her." She put her hand over her mouth and a sob escaped that could have shaken even the most harden criminal. He put his coffee down, took hers, and wrapped his arms around her and hugged her and let her cry on his shoulder."

***

"Mom said that he talked to her for over an hour, because it took longer to get a hold of my dad and Scott, my husband…he was my boyfriend then, and she said that it was like, one minute he was there and the next he was gone. She and I both never had the chance to thank him properly for saving my life. And now, it doesn't matter. I mean, he saved the world. He must be some kind of angel."

Chuck shook his head. "No. Trust me. Angels aren't as kind as Dean Winchester."

"What?" she asked brows crinkled.

"Never mind."

"I really don't know how that can help you sir."

"Oh it does. Thank you so much."

She stood, grabbed her crutch and followed Chuck to the door, limping heavily. "If you ever get to meet Dean Winchester.." she started. Chuck stopped and turned around and she gave him earnest eyes. "Tell him that Emily from Minnesota says thank you for saving her life."

"I will young lady. I most certainly will."


	4. Chapter 4

Dean pushed his brother's too long bangs out of his face, his eyes closed, respirator forcing air into his lungs, and Dean sighed. He put his forehead on top of his clasped hands.

"Sir, is there anything I can do for you?" Dean's secret service detail, Mark, asked.

"For the love of God, go away. I was able to wipe my own ass for 31 years, I don't need your help now. Just go away."

"Yes, sir."

"And quit calling me sir!" He yelled as the man in the black suit closed the door. "You gotta get better Sammy. This is stupid. I can only watch so much television and look at porn sites on your computer for so long." Dean laughed and not for the first time wished to see the patented Sammy Winchester Bitch Face. "I feel like I'm trapped. They won't let me out, they say it's too dangerous, and the only reason I stay is because they are keeping you alive, and they are doing everything in their power to help Bobby walk again. It's the only reason I haven't high tailed it out of here." He gave a small laugh. "That and every single person on the planet knows what I look like, and judging from the amount of security around this place they must want to attack me."

"More like touch you." Chuck said as he entered the room. There were very few people allowed to enter the room where Sam Winchester, emaciated, and defenseless, and Chuck Surly was on the short list.

"What?"

"The people out there…want you….like really want you."

"What in the hell does that mean?"

"You are a religious experience." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on."

"That's what it is out there. There is a pilgrimage."

"That's….that's just disturbing." Chuck nodded and came closer.

"How is he?"

"The same."

"Is he…?" Dean shrugged and turned back to his little brother.

"I don't know. I don't know anything. I'm not allowed out of this damn cage, and I'm about to go crazy. There is a world out there and I'm stuck here, guarded by the freaking men in black---complete with those ray band things no less, and I don't even have my brother to talk to, and I love Bobby and all, but he's even more grouchy than usual. I want out."

Chuck looked up and then back down, looking for all of the world like he was debating on whether or not to give Dean bad news.

"Spit it out Chuck."

"You aren't going to like this."

"Do I need to remind you again, that I didn't like hell?"

Chuck sighed and said, "You probably won't ever get out of here."

Dean's blood ran cold and his face went pale. "What do you mean?"

"You are being worshiped, you and Sam. It's weird."

"That's wrong. I shouldn't be worshipped!? I started the damn apocalypse in the first place. What is wrong with these people?!"

"They don't know the beginning, they just know the two of you saved the world from eternal damnation. They are pretty grateful."

"I don't want them to be that grateful. I want my life back."

"If you ask me Dean this life is pretty sweet."

"I've never wanted to live some place like this. My life is out there. On the road. With my brother. Hunting things and saving people. Not being locked up like a golden bird, something to be starred at and adored. That's just stupid. What's wrong with these people?!" He asked as he stood and motioned to the window. "If they knew me. I mean knew me they wouldn't be so quick to jump the let's adore him bandwagon."

"A lot of them do know you Dean." Dean gave Chuck a disbelieving look and sat back down next to Sam.

"They don't know me Chuck. They know what the TV feeds them."

"No. The people you've saved. They know you." Dean huffed and starred at his brother.

"You hear that Sammy? They think they know me."

"They all tell a story of a man who saved their lives and didn't want anything in return. They tell the story of a young man who sat with their mothers and fathers as they cried and waited to hear if they were going to be okay. They weren't the people you saved from demons, or monsters. They are the ones you saved from just bad stuff. They know you and want the best for you."

"Whatever."

"You can think that Dean." Chuck got up and started for the door.

"So, is that where you've been?"

"What?"

"Talking to these people?" Chuck nodded. "Why?"

"The world needs to know."

"They know enough about me."

"Like you said, they know what the TV feeds them." Chuck closed the door on his way out.


End file.
